Pastel Colours

Day1507:00

Songran shot it waywardly and freely. After shooting, she wanted to dig a 10-meter deep pit and bury herself.

Of course there was nowhere to dig the pit, so he suffered from amnesia.

Until he hung up the phone, Songran couldn't remember how he explained the shot and how he comforted Mr. He. Anyway, the moment he hung up, his whole body got out of strength, and the phone slipped from his fingers and got stuck in an unknown sofa gap. He was too lazy to dig it, holding the listless, sloppy bird, his eyes blank, looking at the ceiling and thinking about life and philosophy.

After returning to his soul for a while, he twisted his underwear on and went to the bathroom to take a hot shower.

After rushing out of the bath, he tied a bath towel around his waist and rubbed his pair of cotton boxer briefs in front of the mirror as if venting his anger, while rubbing them, thinking: How many times has it been this time? Would you like to do so frequently recently?

Young is a blessing, and kidney deficiency is a disaster.

Mr. He is coming back soon, so he has to prepare some waist supplements in advance to avoid losing on the bed.

In the morning, Boob got up, opened the bedroom door, and shouted vigorously, "Hello, brother".

"Good cloth."

Songran was putting soy milk and sesame Qiang cakes on the dining table. He greeted him smoothly. When he looked up, the child walked into the bathroom with short legs. On his right cheek was an emoticon he painted last night.

Two seconds later, Bubu jumped out, pointed to his face and shouted in surprise: "Brother, look, there is a pig on my face!"

"..."

Songran chopped up a piece of Qiang cake, thinking, where is it like a pig?

He set up breakfast, went to help Bobu wash his face, carefully rubbed off the emoji, and put a layer of children's cream on his fair skin.

Today, Tuesday, Bubu has resumed his normal work and rest, and will report to the kindergarten at 8 o'clock, so he tied a small bib, grabbed a spoon and started drinking soy milk. He likes soft food. He eats the crushed fried dough sticks in a bowl, and there is a circle of foam next to his mouth.

Songran sat across from him and looked at him, thinking to himself: These two masters are almost printed in the same mold, why haven't they found it before?

Maybe it's still too young. The facial features are not long. If Bubu is ten years old this year, he would definitely recognize it at a glance.

After eating breakfast, Songran rode a small second wheel to the kindergarten and took a trip to the vegetable market. When he came back, the basket was full of dumplings: wonton skins, minced pork, eggs, spring onions, seaweed, shrimp skins, There are also fresh squid, whole chicken and vegetables.

I promised to make small wontons for Mr. He before, and the materials must be prepared in advance.

On the living room calendar, the last two small footprints are left. Bubu went out in a hurry this morning, and forgot to apply it, so Songran brought a colored pen and filled his second-to-last footprint for him-when the last one was painted tomorrow, Mr. He should go home.

Their family will finally have their first reunion.

Songran missed Mr. He again. He turned out the picture book hidden in the drawer and opened it carefully. The handsome Infiniti male **** appeared on the paper, smiling gently at him.

The person is still the same person before, but now Songran is no longer unrequited love-they are really in love.

"Hello, Mr. He."

Songran also smiled at him, lowered his head, and gently kissed his lips.

Under Mr. He’s head, “predecessor” was written brightly, and the corner of Songran’s mouth twitched, and he quickly wiped off the previous graffiti. He wrote the word “husband” seriously, circled it with love, and sealed it in a photo frame.

He wanted to hang this picture in their master bedroom, bashing Mr. He to death, in order to avenge his deception.

Songran was holding the portrait, his heart was warm and itchy.

Miss him so much.

I haven't contacted him for three hours and forty-two minutes. I miss him very, very much.

Songran did not restrain his desires. He took out his cell phone from the gap in the sofa and dialed He Zhiyuan's phone. He threw himself on the bedroom bed and put his arms around the soft pillow.

He Zhiyuan was having a celebration banquet with his subordinates, he pressed his credit card, and the bill was all inclusive.

A group of senior engineers were in high spirits and swept all the way along the street, drinking from German dark beer to Scotch whiskey, banging the glass pint by pint, and the knocked out peanut shells flooded the instep, comparable to a midsummer European Cup carnival.

When they were tired of drinking, they collectively found a Japanese food store to settle down, took up half of the long table, and began to eliminate the running water sashimi plate by plate.

Because the press conference came out publicly, He Zhiyuan became the center of the topic. The phone rang on the table, he picked it up and said that he was going out to take a call. The subordinates thought he was running away, and they stopped him.

He had to explain: "Boyfriend."

The engineers immediately gave the green light all the way, allowing him to get away smoothly in cheers.

The shop faces the street in front, and there is a Japanese-style courtyard at the back, with small bridges and bamboo shadows, mountains, rocks and water, and the environment is very quiet. He Zhiyuan put his pocket in his pocket and leaned on the pillar to make a phone call. A paper lantern hung beside it, swaying from side to side with the wind.

"Song Ran, aren't you angry with me?"

"……Ok."

Song Ran nodded.

I am so embarrassed to be angry. I don't care about it in front of others, or force them to say a bunch of sweet words to help the ejaculation. The word "shameless" is almost perfect, and the face is lost, okay?

He Zhiyuan was relieved when he heard the words, and the next second he pretended to be serious: "But I was very angry, I was hard for the whole afternoon."

Songran feels guilty: "I'm sorry."

"What are you going to do to compensate me, eh?"

"This...I don't know..." Songran pursed her lips, "Do you have anything you want?"

"Yes." He Zhiyuan changed his posture in time and looked up at the moon in the sky, "I hope you can compensate me for the whole afternoon."

Songran blinked twice in confusion: "Compensate you for an afternoon...what?"

He Zhiyuan smiled without answering.

After a few seconds, Songran understood it quickly, and a fire burst out from her lower abdomen, and it burned to her cheeks, as if tied in a steamer, so hot that every pore was sweating desperately.

Make up...how many times do you have to make up for an afternoon?

He subconsciously clamped his legs, the newly changed pants were not as loose as pajama pants, and the awakened Xiao Songran couldn't stretch in it, suffering from hardship and pain.

He Zhiyuan stopped until he stopped teasing him. Instead, he asked: "Do you like him a little more now, or do you like me a little more?"

Songran mumbled: "Aren't you alone?"

He Zhiyuan was overjoyed: "Now that I know we are alone, what about the sturdy energy that could not wait to see the red apricot out of the wall and splash me with a green head? Just shot it all at once?"

"I, I... your moment at the press conference was too sudden, I haven't established a sense of reality yet."

Song Ran's blush was so bloody.

beep.

The phone hung up.

Songran was shocked and bounced off the bed, staring at the phone with the dark screen, with an expression that he was about to finish. Immediately after the screen lights up again, the other party sends a video invitation.

Song Ran took it tremblingly.

He Zhiyuan's upper body appeared in the lens, and his style was similar to that at the press conference-his short black hair was neatly combed and shaped by the gel. After a few hours, the hair fell slightly, and he seemed to be more lazy and relaxed than before. The shirt is a standard light blue, the tie has been removed, the collar button has not been fastened, and the cuffs are rolled up to the forearm. The whole person almost matches the appearance of Songran's love at first sight.

Song Ran looked at him with a stunned expression-completely different from the scenes and portraits. This was a private male **** who only contained him in his eyes.

He Zhiyuan smiled and asked, "Do you feel it?"

"..."

Song Ran shook his head.

Not even more.

He Zhiyuan was amused by him, stroked the hair scattered in front of his forehead, and said: "Well, my plane at 7 o'clock tomorrow morning, as long as there is no delay, it will land at 1 o'clock Beijing time. It doesn't matter if I feel it is not enough today. I will see you tomorrow. , Hug, kiss, manage enough."

Songran looked at him without blinking, and stammered: "Then, then I'll go... I will pick you up at the airport."

"The airport is so far from the city center. I won’t bother you anymore. I have to go back to the company first and take care of some things." The helper guesses that they are lazy and have to pick up their muscles and take a hard meal. I will try to clean up as soon as possible. See you at the entrance of the kindergarten at four o'clock, how about?"

He is a bottle of high-purity spirits, and Songran is too drunk, so he arranges everything, and said obediently: "Okay."

He Zhiyuan shook the screen and straightened up: "See you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Ah? Don't hang up!" Songran raised the volume and begged anxiously, "Let's talk with me for a while, I want to see you again, okay?"

"Of course it's good."

He Zhiyuan smiled softly and leaned back on the pillar.

So at this celebration dinner, He Zhiyuan didn't eat anything except the first cold soba noodles with chopsticks and a mouthful of salmon roe sashimi. His subordinates were considerate of the boss, ordered every food on the menu, packed them into boxes, stuffed them with tempura and tonkatsu, and gave them to this good man who "starved to accompany his wife" as a supper.